


The Pausenclown's Boyfriend

by tempered_rose



Series: Pausenclown [1]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FIFA World Cup 2014, Football, Germany, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, One Shot, World Cup, angsty, german nt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempered_rose/pseuds/tempered_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas is injured at the end of the Ghana match and Miro tends to him. What happens afterward?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pausenclown's Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Because Miro [took such good care](http://elleeffsee.tumblr.com/post/89529746190/moonriver10310219-thomas-muller-miroslav) of Mulli when he was hurt that it made me have feels. That and they’re always touching one another it seems.

Miro waited on the sofa of Thomas’ hotel suite. He told himself that he was waiting patiently and acting like a normal concerned friend. He tried to tell himself to ignore the paternal streak that wanted to go find Thomas and tend his injuries instead of the medical staff the way he would look after anyone he loved.

He knew head injuries often looked worse than they were, but still Miro couldn’t help but remember that there was so much blood and Thomas wasn’t smiling. He always was smiling. Patiently, Miro slid his palms along the legs of his trousers. He told himself not to be ridiculous, but he still couldn’t help but worry. Time ticked by and still Thomas hadn’t returned. Nor had he texted.

An hour passed, then two. Finally his phone buzzed and he was almost embarrassed at how fast he checked his messages. Almost.

_He’s in my room, resting. Doctor told him not to move. He wants to see you._

Miro looked at the sender of the message’s name. Bastian. Of course.

Miro told himself he was too old for jealousy, but the suggestion of it stirred in his mind as he got up and started for the door. He was in the elevator before he realized it and was walking to Bastian’s room before he could register the fact his breathing had increased.

Bastian let him in after the second knock. He gave him a small smile before stepping back to let him inside. Politely, Bastian let Miro walk closer to the sofa where Thomas was resting before following at a discreet distance.

Miro sat on the edge of the bed and saw Thomas open his eyes. A small smile crossed Thomas’ face and Miro exhaled slowly. Thomas was smiling again; everything was going to be okay.

Miroslav lifted his hand to brush hair back from Thomas’ forehead, but Thomas caught him before he could and intertwined their fingers. Miro let his hand be held and smiled slightly as Thomas kept their hands together and rested them on his chest. Miroslav noticed the rhythmic movement of Thomas’ chest and he felt the tension easing in his shoulders.

Bastian quietly excused himself to his bedroom. From the voice that spoke to him as soon as he entered the room, Miro assumed Lukas had been waiting for him.

Miro checked the place where Thomas had been bleeding earlier and saw the fresh stitches just above his eyebrow.

“I have to stay awake.” Thomas murmured, voice full of weariness. “But I’m so sleepy.” He smiled lazily and Miro knew that feeling. To be so comfortable and so relaxed that it would be so easy to just drift off to sleep.

“Worried about a concussion,” Miro assumed quietly. Thomas nodded slowly.

“Basti and Lukas were keeping me awake.” Thomas continued and that small stir of jealousy moved again. “They helped me back here after the stitches.”

Miro nodded slowly, putting his feelings away. He didn’t have to say that he was worried about him. He couldn’t hide the concern in his eyes that had been there from the moment that Thomas hadn’t gotten up at the end of the match. Thomas squeezed his hand.

“I’m okay.” Thomas smiled. “Just sleepy.”

“Don’t,” Miro warned and tugged lightly on Thomas’ hand to pull him up carefully. “I won’t let you.”

The thought of Thomas falling asleep and not waking up again scared him. He knew it was unlikely that Thomas had a concussion but still. He wasn’t going to risk it in a million years. Thomas shifted on the sofa and leaned into his body, resting the uninjured side of his head on Miro’s shoulder.

“I guess I can let you keep me awake. But only if you make it fun.” Thomas challenged teasingly. Miroslav almost smiled. Almost; it wasn’t time yet.

“I’ll do my best.” He replied quietly and rubbed Thomas’ back slowly with his hand for an unmeasurable time. He was relaxed now that Thomas was in his arms again and wasn’t too seriously injured.

“Miro…” Thomas spoke slowly.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

Miro heard the smile in his voice but Miro shook his head. Keeping Thomas awake for the determined time would be difficult. It also meant he wasn’t going to get any sleep. Oh well. He would sacrifice it.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Miro suggested and shifted slightly but Thomas held him in place.

“Wait.” Miro watched him in confusion before Thomas smiled slightly and shifted to kiss him.

Miro ignored the fact that Lukas and Bastian were a door away. He kissed Thomas back lightly the way he did when he would say goodbye. Chastely. Time and place, he thought to himself and willed that Thomas would understand. He did.

“Okay. I can walk, but not much. I get dizzy sometimes.”

Miro nodded and helped Thomas stand. He loved the boy so much; he wasn’t going to hurt him and hinder his recovery.

“Miro, it’s only stitches. I’m okay.” Thomas said again as he moved slowly towards Bastian’s bedroom door. “I’m leaving with Miro, Schweini. See you later, Lukas.”

Miro heard two muffled goodbyes before Thomas was back beside him again. They walked to the door of the hotel suite and left quietly. Relief was evident in his walk as Miro walked side-by-side towards the elevator.

“I know you’re okay.” Miro started quietly in way of apology for worrying. “I just…need to make sure myself. There was a lot of blood.” He shifted, not quite meeting Thomas’ eyes.

“Of course there was,” Thomas returned easily, smile already getting wider as the joke formed in his mind, “I just wanted to share it. You know I donate.”

Miro shook his head slightly and Thomas’ expression grew slightly less humorous.

“Miroslav…I have a headache and I probably will for a day or so. But my legs are fine, my head is still attached, and I’m stitched up. I’m okay.” Thomas shrugged and hoped that Miro would understand and soften up a little.

They entered the elevator and Miro released a pent-up breath.

“Very well, Thomas.” He stated before pulling the boy closer for another small quick kiss. Thomas offered his mouth for more and Miroslav almost took him up on the offer, but the elevator _ping_ ’d and the doors began to open. 

Miroslav forced himself to take a step back before they both walked out of the elevator, Thomas first. Miro wished he was braver; brave enough to take Thomas’ hand in his own while walking down the hallway and not care about who saw. Brave enough to kiss him for longer than a few seconds if other people were nearby who may see. Brave enough to tell him that he loved him without feeling guilty about it. But he was not a brave man, not in that way in any regard.

Thomas was. Miro thought, not for the first time, that perhaps he should have a real boyfriend who could commit to him the way he deserved. Not an old man who was nearing retirement who would never be able to go public with him.

“I recognize that look,” Thomas started and frowned. “What are you thinking?”

Miro shook his head and tried to dismiss the conversation before it got started. Thomas sighed.

“Miro, I don’t know how to otherwise convince you I’m fine.” Thomas looked disappointed somehow. Miro felt a tug in his heart.

They got inside his suite and Miro shut the door before he pulled Thomas against his body and kissed his cheek softly.

“I believe you.” He said simply and held Thomas closer.

“Then what is it now?” Thomas asked and wound his hands in Miro’s shirt.

Miro stayed quiet a long while, just holding Thomas close. Thomas let him have his moment and Miroslav was grateful.

“Don’t you ever want…someone who would openly show their affection?” Miro asked and grimaced inwardly. That didn’t come out right and was already trying to find a way to reform the question, his concern. But Thomas interrupted first.

“You do show me affection. But I know what you mean. And yes, sometimes I do wish it.” A anvil may as well have dropped in Miro’s gut. This was a fear he had worried over for a long while now. “But it’s not the way things are. I accept that.” Thomas shrugged. “I’d rather have you a little bit, however you want it to be, than not at all.”

“It’s not fair to you,” Miro started but Thomas interrupted again.

“It’s fair enough.” Thomas pulled back and held Miro’s face in his hands and looked into the older man’s eyes with an honesty Miro hadn’t ever seen before. “It is fair enough.”

Miro wanted to protest, to argue further. But that could lead to a discussion he didn’t want to have, ever. Saying goodbye, for the final time. Thomas had a temper, it took a lot to bring it out but he wasn’t going to push it. Especially not while he was injured.

“I said I want you. The way I have you now will do for me. Of course I would take more if you gave it, but I love you the same if you do or you don’t. Miroslav, stop worrying about things that don’t need worrying over.” Thomas gave him a squeeze before taking a step back to go help himself to the water that they both knew would be in his fridge.

Miro let out a long breath and felt the tension returning into his body. This wasn’t supposed to be how the evening went. Not at all.

“I just wish I could be more for you sometimes.”

He wasn’t sure quite how loudly he spoke, if he even had aloud. But from the way Thomas stilled and turned slowly to face him, Miro guessed it was loud enough that he had been overheard.

“Miroslav Klose, don’t you ever say such a thing again.” Thomas replied, determination in his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, you’re Miroslav Klose. You’re wonderful. A legend, a hero!” Thomas’ voice rose with enthusiasm as he continued. “I love you.”

It was so simple for him to say it, Miro marveled to himself. So simple for Thomas to just express his feelings, to show others that he cared, to make them laugh. So easy, so simple. Miro was envious.

“I don’t need you to be _more_ for me. I don’t want you different. I love you the way you are,” Thomas looked at him honestly as he always did. Miro didn’t think Thomas had ever lied to him, not that he would’ve had a reason. He was always so genuine.

Miro nodded slowly and relented, but the argument lingered in his mind. He wasn’t going to have this discussion now of all times and places. It could wait.

“All right Thomas.” He said, tiredly and moved over to rest his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “All right.” He pulled him close again and Thomas went willingly.

It took a moment but they both relaxed into one another. Miro heard Thomas breath out a sigh and he felt him tighten his hold in his shirt again.

“So what are we going to do to keep you awake?” Miro asked, changing the subject.

He felt Thomas smile against the skin of his neck.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something. If not I have a few ideas. We do, after all, have to get the blood down from my head…”

Thomas’ grin was wicked. Miro smiled and ran his fingers lightly across Thomas’ cheek.

The few words of endearment he had managed died in his throat as he leaned down to kiss him softly. This time it wasn’t chaste or short. It lasted and Miro tasted Thomas for the first time all day.

He may not have been a man of romantic endearments and speeches, but he could show his actions when he had the time. Maybe Thomas was right. Maybe he didn’t have to change to be something different when what they had was working just fine.

Maybe things were okay after all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2234289) by [serein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serein/pseuds/serein)




End file.
